


Underneath

by heartsdesire456



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 21:25:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/643125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartsdesire456/pseuds/heartsdesire456
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony has always been a drinker. It's never been a real problem, Bruce knows, but it doesn't stop him from hating the fact that Tony seems to never stop drinking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Underneath

**Author's Note:**

> I started this a while ago and dropped it but I resurrected it recently and finished writing it. It's a bit longer than I expected, I expected something under 5K, but it's still pretty short, so no worries!

Bruce was beautiful, Tony decided while watching the scientist standing at the counter wearing nothing but sweatpants as he chopped onions for the breakfast he was making. Tony would have continued standing in the doorway and watching the beautiful man be beautiful in peace for longer if JARVIS hadn’t interrupted. “Mr. Stark, Agents Romanov and Barton have just arrived.”

Bruce looked up, eyebrow creeping up when he spotted Tony standing in the doorway. “How long have you been there?”

Tony grinned. “A few minutes, actually.”

Bruce just shook his head. “I’m losing my paranoia, it seems,” he joked and Tony walked over to him, sidling up beside him as he scooped onions into the pan with of the knife and his hand. “Normally I’d feel eyes on me the second somebody was there.”

Tony slid his arms around Bruce and laid his chin on his shoulder. “Well, you have no reason to be paranoid in this kitchen, do you?” he asked, kissing the top of his shoulder. “The only people here are you and me-“

“Stark? Where the hell are you?” Natasha’s voice rang out and Bruce chuckled.

“You were saying?” he asked, turning his head to give Tony a still-rumpled smile, his eyes soft with the early morning light.

Tony’s heart skipped a beat and he was unable to resist leaning in to steal a soft, tender little kiss from Bruce’s soft, full lips. “Stark!” Tony whined and pouted when Bruce pulled away to look up at the door.

Tony turned and glowered at Natasha and her ever-level expression. “I assumed you would be waiting by the elevator,” she said and Tony cocked an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah? I assumed I’d get a nice, peaceful morning for once-“ He stopped and made a dramatic gesture when he saw Bruce pulling a hoodie from the back of a barstool. “And now my sexy, half-naked chef is getting less naked, thanks a lot for that,” he said and Barton smirked, clearly fighting laughter.

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Not everybody wants to see me naked-“

“Lies! Your chest hair brings all the boys to the yard,” Tony argued petulantly.

Natasha gave Tony a slightly disturbed look. “Chest hair definitely doesn’t do it for many people,” she said, then offered Bruce a smile. “Not that you aren’t terribly handsome, Bruce-“

“No, please,” Bruce waved a hand, chuckling to himself. “Pretty sure I’m probably old enough to be your father, Natasha, it’s completely fine with me for you to not at all be attracted to me, really.”

Tony gave Bruce a speculative look. “Wait, I don’t remember looking at your date of birth on the files, but you can’t really be old enough to be her-“

Bruce sighed. “Just assuming she’s in her mid-twenties, that puts me as twenty years older than her,” he said, then narrowed his eyes at Tony. “Besides, you’re my age-“

“LIES!” Tony said suddenly, smiling overly bright. “Lies, total lies, Barton, never tell anybody he said that,” he hissed and Natasha rolled her eyes.

“You’re forty-five, Stark, you can’t deny that-“

“DON’T SAY THAT!” Tony whined dramatically. “I’m perpetually thirty-nine! I’m never turning forty!”

Barton chuckled. “I had the same reaction,” he said and Bruce and Tony both shot him shocked looks. “What?”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “You’re lying, you can’t be older than thirty-something!” he accused and Natasha shook her head.

“No, I know all of the agent’s dates of birth that I work with and he’s telling the truth. He’s forty-one this year,” she said and Bruce hummed.

“Didn’t expect that,” he said, then groaned. “Good God, does nobody else have gray hair yet?” he asked, playfully glaring at the other two men.

Natasha just nodded at Tony. “Stark does, he’s been dying his hair since he was thirty-six-“

“How could you possibly know that?” Tony asked, giving her a wary gaze.

Bruce frowned. “What about the facial hair?”

“He dyes that too,” she said, then smirked. “I’m surprised you haven’t worked this out by now,” she said and Bruce shrugged.

“We have separate bathrooms, I never notice the dye lying around, I can understand how,” he offered, then looked at Tony with a chuckle. “I just figured you were distinguished enough you wouldn’t freak out over a few grays.”

Tony huffed. “Not everyone looks sexy with salt-and-pepper chest hair,” he said, nudging his hip absently. “Besides, you could pass yours all off on stress. I have the money to not age.”

Bruce chuckled. “Well, for the record, I think you’d look good with a little gray around the temples,” he said and Tony smirked.

“Oh yeah?” he asked, sidling up to Bruce, sliding a hand around his middle. “Would you really like that?” he asked, voice lowering slightly.

Bruce blushed nudged Tony back while Clint made a slightly dramatic gagging motion behind Natasha’s back. “Tony, stop-“

“Not my fault they fucked up my half-naked morning,” Tony said, propping his chin on Bruce’s shoulder. “Alright, whatever, who needs me if you two are here?”

Clint shot him an annoyed look. “Fury wants to see you. He says he refuses to buy you out of your latest DUI-“

Bruce stiffened and turned to Tony with a disappointed look. “Tony, you didn’t-“

Tony scoffed. “I was not intoxicated. My BAC may have been over the legal limit, but you know as well as I do my tolerance is high enough that I was one-hundred percent capable of driving perfectly well. I’m an expert driver. I can _fly the suit_ over the legal limit without any issues!”

Bruce shook his head, shrugging Tony off of him. “It doesn’t mean it’s okay, Tony.” He shot him the most hurt and disappointed look Tony had ever seen him give him. “A DUI is not funny, Tony. I don’t care how in control you think you are, driving when you’ve been drinking is basically like turning into me when I’m the Other Guy.” He pointed at him with his knife absently, earning an amused look from Natasha and an alarmed look from Tony. “A fast sports car is basically similar to the mass and velocity of the Other Guy. Not when he really gets going, sure, but the fact of the matter is, the destructive power is the same. If you hit another car driving the speeds you do, it would be like him throwing the same car or something. You’re going to kill somebody, Tony, somebody who never did anything wrong, and you’ll live with it forever,” he stressed.

Tony bit his lip. “Bruce, it’s not a big deal. I’ve had four already, I just buy my way out-“

Bruce let out an exasperated sigh and slammed the knife down. “You have been CAUGHT four times, Tony. God knows how many times you drive drunk. You’re going to kill somebody or yourself.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe you could be so reckless.”

Tony tried a laugh. “But I’m always reckless-“

Bruce shook his head. “Not like this,” he said sternly, voice tighter than usual as he turned back to going about cooking breakfast for them. “I honestly thought you were a better person, Tony,” he said in the smallest, saddest voice Tony had heard from him in a very long time.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
“So if you change the polarity and reverse the ionization of the atoms, you can increase the friction-“

Tony sighed dramatically, propping his chin in his hands. “Do you know how sexy your brain is?” he said with a cheesy, over the top grin.

Bruce looked up from his calculations and raised an eyebrow at Tony. “And amplify the energy conversion,” he finished, shaking his head in amusement, only to look up when the door opened and Steve came in with Pepper and Clint.

Tony looked over his shoulder and sighed. “Pepper, stop overriding JARVIS,” he complained and Pepper rolled her eyes as she walked over and dropped some files on the table next to him.

“Director Fury sends these,” she said, turning only to let out a sigh. “Damn it, Tony! What do I have to tell you about this?!” she asked, stepping around a pile of rubble to look at shattered glass and cement dividing parts of the lab.

“Actually,” Bruce started, taking off his glasses to fidget with them absently, wiping them on his lab coat. “That was kind of me, sorry,” he said, giving her his best innocent smile. “I let Tony do the figures for something and he thought it would be interesting to double the amount of accelerant and it ended up with a small fire and then one of the robots got a little overexcited at the prospect of putting it out.” He shrugged with a little ‘oops’ smile. 

She sighed but nodded. “Well, in that case it’s not a big deal.”

Tony gave her a scandalized look. “Wait, he breaks things and it’s alright but when I cause _minor_ explosions I get yelled at?”

Pepper glared. “Doctor Banner just said you doubled the accelerant, so it’s still your fault.”

Tony shot Clint and Steve a look. “You see what I put up with?! Nagging, always nagging. Why did I hire her to start with again?” he asked and Clint just grinned whereas Steve gave him a stern look. Pepper hit him and he drew back. “ _Ow_! What was that for?”

Bruce snickered. “Being a jerk, probably,” he muttered, then glanced up and gave Tony a smile as he put his glasses back on. 

Tony huffed. “You put on the glasses! That’s playing dirty, Banner,” he grumbled, narrowing his eyes. “I can never be angry when you wear the glasses.”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “If you’re done, while it has been fun to watch Pepper hit you, I’ve got some figures to extrapolate right now-“

Tony moaned and propped his chin in his hands again, though this time he leered at Bruce. “Oh baby, talk nerdy to me,” he said, winking lasciviously at Bruce, who just flushed and ducked his head as he cleared his throat awkwardly. 

Clint bit back giggles and Steve looked terribly uncomfortable. Pepper just shook her head. “Leave the poor man alone, you perv,” she said, slapping him in the arm again. 

Tony just sat back on his lab stool with a smug look. “Oh you see the shy science nerd right now but you should see him when he factors polynomials to me in bed-“

“ _Tony!_ ” Bruce hissed, glaring at him with bright red cheeks. “Okay, that’s enough now!”

Tony shook his head. “Man, if only I’d been older when I went to college. All of those quantum physics majors would’ve totally did multiple step equations in their heads and recited it to me in bed. Well, you know, if I hadn’t been a pre-teen and them in their twenties,” he added and Bruce shook his head with a pointed sigh.

“Tony, that was _not_ meant to be public-“

Tony just scoffed and stood up. “Ask Pepper, buddy. I don’t do private, I leaked my own sex tapes in my thirties,” he said, smacking Bruce’s ass as he passed as he kissed his cheek with a dramatic ‘smack’. “Alright, I’ll come do whatever you came to collect me for, leave Bruce to his work in peace,” he said, gesturing for everybody to follow him out. “So, Steve, I see you’re experimenting with jeans that _aren’t_ grandpa heights, it’s a good look!” he said, clapping him on the back as he passed him. “You should try colored underwear next, I’m telling you man, once you ditch the tighty-whiteys you never go back!”

Bruce just rolled his eyes as he watched the three men leaving his lab. Pepper lingered and he gave her a smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll stop him from making more explosions in here, at least,” he said and she smiled warmly.

“Alright, just don’t forget, if Tony ever needs a kick in the pants, I’m only a few floors down, I enjoy the occasion to smack him one good time for the trouble he causes me,” she said, shaking her head as she turned to leave. “Thank _God_ you showed up or my stupid self would probably still be stuck with him and his arrogance,” she muttered on her way out the door.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
When Bruce came out of the lab finally and up to Tony’s floor, he wasn’t at all surprised to see Steve and Clint fighting over the pizza and Tony sitting on the couch with a tumbler in his hand. “Did you eat?” 

Tony gave him an apologetic look. “I was gonna,” he defended and Bruce sighed, sitting next to him.

“Tony,” he started, sighing. “Please eat,” he said softly, looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes. 

Tony gave him a tight smile and nodded. “Sure thing, Bruce,” he said, glancing over, only to huff when he saw that Clint and Steve had eaten the entire pizza alone. “Hey, Bruce was meant to eat that-“

“No, no worries,” Bruce said, standing. “I’ll go make us some dinner-“

Tony shook his head. “No way, I can cook, just let me get a refill-“ He started to stand only to have Bruce grab his wrist.

“You can help me, but not if you’re bringing that with you,” he said pointedly.

Tony looked at his glass then shot Bruce a look. “Bruce, c’mon-“

“No means no.” Bruce smiled sadly. “Tony, please? Come help me?” He took the glass from Tony and sat it on the table. “You have had enough for now, let’s go make dinner, alright?”

Tony rolled his eyes but nodded. “Fine, buzz kill.” Bruce took a steadying breath before following Tony to the kitchen.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Bruce tensed slightly when, only a few hours after dinner, Tony came back to the living room area with beers in his hands. He passed a beer to each Clint and Steve before plopping down with his own. After enough times being told ‘I don’t drink’, he’d finally learned better than to bring Bruce one. Bruce relented some on the basis that Clint and Steve were having beers as they put the TV on an action movie to relax.

“Man, look at the tits on that one,” Tony said, smirking as the clichéd ‘hot damsel in distress’ came walking out of the pool in a tiny blue bikini, her dark hair wet and cascading down her back as she left the water. “Great ass too,” he said as she got out of the pool fully. He tilted his head. “Huh, her ass might be as good as Natasha’s,” he said and Bruce shot him a half-hearted glare.

“Be careful what you say, pretty sure Natasha can kill you in your sleep and I’d really hate for her to miss in the dark and hit me,” Bruce stressed.

Steve managed to look even more uncomfortable than ever and Tony chuckled. “Which freaks you out the most? Talking about a fellow soldier’s ass in her jumpsuit or Bruce bringing up the whole ‘two dudes sleeping together’ thing?”

“Neither,” Steve said pointedly. “The seriously half-naked women all over the screen! I traveled with a damned chorus line, dames with legs for days all over the place, and even then they covered more than _that_ -“

Clint chuckled. “Your outdated gentlemanly ways are adorable, Cap,” he teased light-heartedly. 

Tony just scoffed. “Who would complain about hot, mostly naked, perky-assed women?” he asked incredulously. “Speaking of asses, I’ve always wondered, Clint, give it to me straight-“ He turned to face him full on, eyes full of curiosity. “Have you ever slept with Natasha?” he asked in a low voice, as if trying to escape Natasha’s wrath.

Clint shot him an disbelieving look. “Three good reasons that’s a no- one, they call her the _black widow_ and I like being alive. Two- Nat’s had my back for a long time and SHEILD would lose their shit over two their two best agents in the field having any sort of romance.” He snickered suddenly. “And last and most important, I’m gay,” he said and Tony and Steve both whipped their heads around, jaws dropped. Clint smirked at their expressions, clearly amused. “What? Neither of you realized that before? I’m gay as hell.”

Bruce chuckled. “I figured you were but it wasn’t any of my business so I never asked.”

Clint chuckled. “Figures the only one to notice is the other gay guy,” he said and Bruce gave him an amused look.

“I’m not gay, though,” he said and Clint raised an eyebrow.

“Really? You come across as hardcore flaming to me,” he said and Bruce rolled his eyes.

“Great to know there’s so much interest in my sexual orientation.” Bruce shot Steve a look. “Sorry if we’re freaking you out,” he said with an apologetic look ant Tony waved a hand.

“Don’t apologize, the old man needs to get caught up with the times!” He smirked and winked at Steve. “Welcome to the twenty-first century, Cap! You have gay spies now!”

Clint shot him an unimpressed look. “Oh yeah? Bruce was in the Army too, technically,” he said and Bruce chuckled.

“I was technically straight though,” he said and Tony cleared his throat pointedly, narrowing his eyes at him. “What? I had a girlfriend, I’d only ever had the one girlfriend, and I’d never wanted a guy before,” he pointed out.

Tony smirked. “Wait, you never told me I’m the only guy you’ve been with.”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Tony, don’t get smug-“

Clint cringed. “Ew, you didn’t like men and you’re fucking _that_?” he asked, gesturing to Tony.

Bruce smiled innocently. “I’m attracted to intelligence, not gender,” he said with a shrug. “Besides.” He nudged Tony’s shoulder with his knee. “Tony’s a smartass but he tried to make me believe in myself from the get go. Smart and he was the first person to be nice to me in years, I can’t be blamed for my weaknesses,” he teased and Tony scoffed.

“I’m a smartass? You’re just as sarcastic as I am, people just don’t notice because you have the puppy thing going for you,” he said, leaning his head back against the couch to look up at him. 

Steve hummed, shooting Bruce a look. “Seems you don’t go for looks either, so it does make sense you’d go for him out of all of us,” he said and Tony snorted.

“What would you know about looks, Grandpa? Have you _seen_ your hair?!” he asked pointedly.

Steve shrugged. “Your father never had a problem with it,” he said, smirking as he stood up and walked off without another word.

Bruce frowned and Clint raised an eyebrow, but Tony’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened. “Oh God,” Tony gasped and Bruce gave him a concerned look. “Did he just- was he implying-“

Clint suddenly gasped as it clicked into place and burst into giggles. “Dude, Steve slept with your dad!” he said and Tony made a pained sound. Clint laughed even more as he watched the horrified look settle into Tony’s features.

Tony whined. “I need a drink,” he said quickly, standing to rush over and pour himself a drink. 

Bruce chuckled, but the smile slid off his face some as he saw exactly how _much_ scotch he was pouring into his glass. “Tony, that’s enough, don’t you think?” he asked softly.

Tony looked up and scoffed. “Are you kidding?! I just found out my dad may have spent a bit more time with Spangle Pants than we knew,” he said, then cringed. “Only minus the pants,” he added, shuddering. 

Clint just laughed at the mentally scarred look on Tony’s face. Bruce, however, shook his head and looked down at his lap, feeling disappointment above all else.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Bruce was helping Tony fix the towel robot in the gym when Clint and Natasha came out of the boxing ring and Clint skinned his shirt off over his head. Tony gave a whistle and Clint turned around, rolling his eyes. “Hey Barton! Looking good, how about a threesome later?” he called out, only to have Bruce clear his throat pointedly. 

“Excuse me?” he asked with a playful glare on his face.

Barton laughed. “Sorry, Stark. That situation brings on a whole new meaning of ‘jealous rage’.” 

Natasha made a small sound that was almost a chuckle. “Pretty sure Agent Coulson wouldn’t handle that well. I’d hate to see Stark invent from a wheelchair.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow at Tony, who looked equally confused. “What’s Coulson got anything to do with it?”

“Besides,” Tony added, “Isn’t he still laid up in PT after the whole ‘Phil’s an asshole for dying and Fury’s a bigger asshole for telling us he stayed that way when they were able to fix him’ thing?”

Natasha gave them an almost fearful look as she walked over some, taking her water from a bench not far from them. “He may be laid up but he still has the capacity to borrow some lesser agents and have them do his dirty work. The gossip around SHIELD is only half made up.”

Bruce glanced at Barton. “We’re never around SHIELD, so care to explain?”

Barton chuckled and came over. “This one time Phil had a junior agent reassigned to a long mission in Siberia because she wouldn’t stop coming up to me and feeling of my arms and asking me how much I bench pressed and shoving her boobs in my face.”

Tony just made a face. “Damn, Coulson’s that protective of his agents?” he asked, only to see a look pass between Natasha and Clint. “What?”

Clint smirked. “Wait, you don’t know? Stark, you hacked SHIELD just for fun the other day-“ He saw their blank looks and rolled his eyes. “My legal name is Clint Coulson.”

Bruce gaped in understanding but Tony still looked confused. “That’s awfully protective of a nephew or cousin-“

Bruce just laughed and touched Tony’s arm. “They’re married, you dumbass.”

Tony’s reaction was _amazing_. His eyes widened in disbelief and his jaw dropped while he looked at Bruce, then slowly his head turned to Clint. His jaw clicked shut and he began to look Clint over searchingly. “Right, clearly there’s got to be something wrong with you, Barton, nobody would marry _Agent_ on purpose.”

Clint stiffened slightly. “Hey, not cool,” he said, his eyes betraying the edge his expression didn’t hold. “That’s my husband you’re talking about-“

Tony flapped a hand. “But he wears _suits_ in his downtime, he _enjoys_ filing papers, the man has a receding hairline, no real body to speak of, and he has the most monotonous voice in the world. I mean, he’s a fun guy to have around, he has his sassy moments, but… you’re Jason Bourne and he’s an accountant on steroids.”

Natasha smirked. “That’s his best surprise though, Stark. Coulson is more of a badass than we are together. He just doesn’t have to do shit on his own anymore. He had the smarts to get a job handling agents rather than doing his own dirty work and he doesn’t have to follow orders to anybody but Fury.”

Clint nodded. “Phil’s brilliant and dedicated.” He grinned. “Besides, his suits are sexy, he likes paperwork because he wants shit done correctly, hair is genetic and I’ll kick your ass if you say shit about it in front of him, he really does have a nice body under the suits, and his voice is soothing, I fell in love with him when he was just a voice in my ear so clearly it isn’t a bad voice,” he admitted, blushing when Natasha mimed gagging. “Shut up,” he whined, pushing her. 

Bruce just grinned. “Awwww, that’s sweet, Clint.”

Tony just made a face. “Ew, I bet you’re all… domestic and monogamous and shit.”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “We’re domestic and monogamous, Tony, clearly you don’t mind-“

Tony flapped a hand. “Well yeah, but I deny the domestic part- we build robots together, not normal domestic things- and it’s less ‘monogamy’ as much as ‘why share when I can have it all to myself’.”

Barton smirked. “On our first wedding anniversary we were pinned down taking enemy fire for six hours straight at the Pakistani border, your robots can suck it. We got married on an op in which I was posing as a hooker in Canada then had to split up and didn’t see each other until extraction a week later. Pretty sure ‘domestic’ isn’t a word I’d use.”

Natasha smirked. “Definitely monogamous, though. Whole reason they got married in the first place was because a slow operative interference almost meant Clint had to actually sleep with the guy who picked him up and Agent Coulson really didn’t like that and got all possessive. I wasn’t in the field yet, but I’d been recruited already so I heard all the good gossip back on base.”

Bruce smiled. “Aww that’s sort of sweet in a… really twisted and somewhat dubious kind of way. Makes me wonder what kind of jealousy issues Agent Coulson has.”

Clint shrugged. “No worse than the childish hissy fit Stark threw when Fury wanted to recruit you and send you to a secret testing facility and he wanted you to work here with Stark Industries.”

Tony spluttered. “I’m not possessive-“

Bruce smirked. “Tony, you told Jane Foster she could get her own super genius and to leave yours alone. Trust me, your jealous, possessive side is nothing new to me.” He shrugged. “It’s sweet.”

Tony groaned. “Oh no, I don’t do sweet-“

“Stark, you were playing with his hair while he was laid on your chest in front of the TV and whispering about how you thought he was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen before,” Natasha said simply. “Clearly you do.”

Bruce blushed and rolled his eyes. “Stark-“

“Oh fine, whatever,” Tony sighed, then slumped. “I’m gonna go do something manly before my balls fall off,” he said, standing up. “Hey! Let’s box, Barton!” he said brightly.

Bruce cringed. “Well, it was nice knowing you, Tony! I hope you have legal in place to make sure I don’t get kicked out of the tower when you die, I like my lab.”

Tony saluted. “You’ve got half my stocks when I die, sexy, you’re good,” he said, then ran over to the boxing ring. “Winner owes the loser a case of beer?” he offered and Clint nodded.

“Sounds good, Stark! Bring it on!”

Bruce just winced slightly, shaking his head as he was reminded once again of Tony’s little ‘problem’.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Bruce stood at the stove, jaw clenched as he stirred the pasta sauce he was making, trying to ignore how Tony and Clint seemed determined to match each other drink for drink- his winning beer for Clint and aged scotch for Tony- at the table behind him.

“No seriously, you mean to tell me there are ‘cliques’ in SHIELD?” Tony asked and Clint nodded.

“Hell yeah, man. It’s like a fucking high school. You should see the shit that happens! I mean, there’s nothing too extreme, but stuff like who hates who and who’s fucking who? That shit fuels the mess hall,” he said, grinning with a bit of a tipsy twinkle to his eyes.

Bruce glanced back. “There isn’t an anti-fraternization policy within SHIELD? I’d have thought you would have those,” he offered.

Clint shrugged. “Technically, but I’m married to basically third in command, clearly nobody’s too strict on them,” he said with a grin. “Now if it wasn’t Phil, we’d definitely not be allowed to work together anymore, that’s for sure. I have a feeling anybody that does more than casual gets reassigned so that they don’t interact any more than necessary, but that’s mostly to keep people from getting emotional.”

Bruce turned back. “About that, not to lower the mood, but we all thought Phil was dead for weeks. How did you never show any weakness if you’ve been married for _years_? I know you’re a trained assassin and stuff, but that had to be too much even for you,” he asked.

Clint smiled sadly. “I didn’t believe he was dead,” he answered honestly. “No matter what they said, I knew something was wrong. Natasha thought I was in denial but I honestly didn’t believe that he was dead. I knew it.” He shifted in his chair. “It just didn’t add up. There were things that seemed wrong. I’ve been with SHIELD for a long time, more than ten years, so I knew things just didn’t fit. I guess everybody else was too afraid of false hope so they didn’t look at it the way I did.”

Tony sipped his drink. “Oh yeah? Like what? Because _I_ believed it and I never trust Nick Fury.”

“Well,” Clint started. “For one they didn’t give me his ring, or any other personal items.” He leaned back and pulled a wedding ring out of his pocket, surprising him. “We never wear them but most of the time we carry them around with us. As his next of kin, legal decision maker, I should have been given all of his things from his office that weren’t SHIELD property and I definitely should’ve been given the contents of his pockets. Also, the story about the cards didn’t add up.”

Bruce frowned. “Cards?”

“Trading cards,” Tony said, eyes distant as he took a big gulp of his drink. “His trading cards covered in his blood. Fury had them and threw them on the table in front of me and Steve.”

Clint nodded. “Bullshit. Phil is a total geek, a badass one, but a geek.” He grinned. “Those cards were worth a lot of money and even more sentimental value to him, he would _never_ carry his cards in his pocket. Never. They’re kept in fucking plastic sheets in a zipped closed notebook and he wears cloth gloves to handle them. I knew something was wrong the second I found out Fury had got his cards from his pocket.”

“But he did get stabbed,” Bruce pointed out. “That did happen.”

“Yeah but if he was really dead, why would Fury need to pull the card stunt?” he asked. He nodded and tipped his beer. “I knew it was wrong then. I didn’t think for more than about five minutes that my husband was dead. That’s where I went to, I was sneaking around SHIELD looking for him.”

Bruce just smiled. “That’s really sweet. Man, I’ve seen you two together, how have I not noticed that between you?”

Clint shrugged, giggling slightly. “We’re not soppy-eyed newlyweds, you know? MOST people don’t know we’re married at first. On SHIELD hours, he is still ‘Sir’ and I’m still ‘Barton’, no matter what. He never breaks his cool when I’m down in the field, I never break business on the comms, and while I’m more likely to panic if I think he’s in trouble, the only time I’ve seen him show any slight worry is this time a building collapsed and I was in it. Even then, the only difference is that he helped dig me out rather than standing back to supervise.”

Tony hummed. “Boring, I’d flirt over the open communications if I were you,” he said, winking. He reached for the scotch and Bruce reached out and snatched it up, putting on the cap. “Bruuuuce,” Tony whined but Bruce shook his head.

“It’s five in the afternoon- DO NOT say Happy Hour-“ he added, “-and I’m still making dinner. You are not getting drunk this early,” he threatened.

Tony rolled his eyes. “I’m not _drunk_ -“

“Then let’s stay that way,” Bruce said resolutely, putting the bottle up into the cabinet over his head to be sure that Tony couldn’t get it. Tony stood up and walked over, giving him a narrow eyed look. “Oh no, I know your plays- NO!” he yelped, fighting a laugh when Tony pushed him up against the counter beside the stove and kissed him, earning a faint moan before Bruce reached out and grabbed his wrist before he could reach for the cabinet where Bruce had stored the liquor.

“But I’m thirsty,” Tony grumbled and Bruce tugged his hand back, kissing him sweetly.

“Drink water then. This isn’t helping with thirst anyways, Tony.” He put a hand on his chest and pushed him back gently. “I’m not kidding, Tony. Stop,” he said firmly, though his voice stayed soft. 

Tony pouted dramatically. “Fine, I’m going to go get a shower since _somebody_ stole the booze.” He turned and headed out. Bruce deflated and sighed, putting his face in his hands. He looked up and saw Clint watching him. 

Clint glanced the way Tony went then back at Bruce. “So… what was that?” he asked curiously.

Bruce snorted. “I’m pretty sure if a vampire drank Tony’s blood they’d black out at this point,” he snapped, shaking his head. “From the time he gets up until the time he drags his drunk ass to bed, he’s drinking. He pours vodka in his juice in the morning. He spikes his _wheatgrass shakes_ ,” he stressed. “Even when he isn’t the slightest bit intoxicated, he’s still drinking. That is bad enough right there, but then he continues to drink until he is,” he finished with a humorless laugh. 

Clint hummed. “Yeah, I can see how that’s really bad for him-“

“Oh God, I don’t even want to THINK about Tony’s health. The fact he isn’t dead yet is a miracle,” Bruce huffed. “I can’t take it,” he mumbled. “I cannot take this anymore. I manage to ease him away from a few drinks a day but it barely changes anything.”

Clint stood up. “Look, he’s been this way for years, I doubt it’s much of a problem anymore-“

“Well I wasn’t around it for years,” Bruce argued, then turned back to the stove. “I got involved with an alcoholic, how fucking dandy is that?” he muttered under his breath.

“Oh.” Bruce stopped stirring and glanced back at Clint, who was about to drop his beer bottle into the recycling can. He looked at Bruce. “Let me guess, old man was an alcoholic?” he asked and Bruce raised an eyebrow. Clint nodded grimly. “Mine too. Both my parents, actually. They’d get drunk and throw shit at each other all night. Did it like clockwork every night until they died. A couple times my brother and I would get caught in the crossfire.”

Bruce laughed darkly. “Mine was just my dad. Got drunk and beat me. Every damn day,” he said gently. He turned and continued stirring. “Only beat my mom once. But it was enough,” he mumbled.

Clint chuckled. “She wise up and leave his ass?”

Bruce shook his head, not looking up. “He killed her.” He heard dead silence and turned his head to see Clint just staring, his face blank.

“Shit, Bruce, I’m sorry,” Clint said and Bruce sighed but shook his head.

“He’s been dead for thirty years, trust me, it’s alright. It’s way in the past,” he said and Clint winced.

“You must’ve still been a kid. You end up in the system like I did?” he asked and Bruce shook his head.

“No. Went to live with my cousin.”

Clint nodded. “Still though. I can see why Tony’s drinking upsets you. Maybe you should just talk to him about it?” he suggested and Bruce let out a dark laugh.

“Oh he knows. That’s the _best_ part,” Bruce said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Tony is fully aware my alcoholic father beat me as a child and yet he doesn’t seem to think I should have any reason to dislike his drinking so much. Sure, he’d never hurt anybody and even if he did, I can’t really be hurt anyways, but for someone with a history of PTSD, Tony clearly doesn’t give a shit how it affects me.” He closed his eyes and hung his head. “I don’t want him to change who he is, I don’t care if he drinks, I just can’t stand how he never _stops_ ,” he whispered.

Clint shook his head and spoke on his way out. “I’m not trying to get in on your life, but my advice?” He turned back at the door. “Don’t sit quietly and deal with it. You are the last person who needs to bottle shit up, okay?”

Bruce grinned at the worried look in his eyes. “Trust me, if I’m about to lose control, I’ll totally let you know first,” he joked, earning a grin as the assassin left the room.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Bruce spending the day at a World Malaria benefit with Pepper had been fun. He had honestly enjoyed giving his lecture about the severity of Malaria in third world countries and providing some suggestions of his own research so that those with the power to put his conclusions into testing phases could work towards a better treatment. With Pepper to help keep him up to date with who he was talking to, he had actually managed to make a few good contacts in the medical community so that he could be kept in the loop on other benefits of a similar nature that he could contribute to. It had been an absolute high point to his entire month, if he was honest.

His hopes to come home and curl up on the couch in the lab and tell Tony all about his day while Tony did some work, however, were dashed upon his return to the main floor to see who all else was still up only to find that Thor, Natasha, and Tony had apparently decided on a drinking contest. Nobody ever won a drinking contest against Thor. Steve may could but only because alcohol literally burned off before it could affect him. He never got in on the contests because of that fact.

“Bruce!” Clint cried, jumping up to wave him over, only to stop suddenly, looking at the three who were kneeling around the coffee table surrounded by glasses and bottles. He cleared his throat. “Um, Steve how about you come help me find something uh… in the gym!” he said quickly, grabbing Steve by his shirt to yank him up. Steve looked confused, but followed him. “JARVIS, keep an eye on these guys,” he called, then gave Bruce an apologetic look as he fled the scene.

Pepper, who was at Bruce’s side, just sighed and shook her head. “Natasha, I thought you were better than this,” she said, walking around the couch, behind which Bruce had stopped walking and just stood watching.

Natasha smirked, swaying slightly- they had clearly been at it a while- and downed another shot of something that Bruce didn’t really care to know the name of. “Look, we all know Thor’s gonna win, but I’m Russian, I’m beating Stark, damn it!” she said, then full on leered at Stark. “Bring it on, bitch!”

Tony just grinned. “I’ve been drinking twice as long as you, I’ve definitely built a tolerance, and I probably weigh as much as two of you,” he said, taking his shot with a grimace. “Suck on that one!”

Pepper sighed. “Look, you two will be useless tomorrow, how about you go to bed and call it a tie?” She looked up. “Thor can you get Natasha? I really have to go, I’ve got a call in an hour and I need something to eat.”

Thor nodded and stood, not appearing at all drunk. “Of course, Lady Pepper. Come, friend, you made your homeland proud,” he said, helping Natasha stand. She swayed slightly, then balanced, nodding.

“You know, I think I might be drunk,” she said, though apart from her hand on Thor’s arm, she barely swayed as they walked out. “Night guys! Stark, you’re a pussy!” she called back, giggling into Thor’s shoulder. “I called Tony Stark a pussy.”

Pepper shook her head then looked at Bruce. “You okay here?” she asked, gesturing to Tony, who was trying to stand up, only to fall over again, giggling as he rolled onto his back.

Bruce winced but nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ve got him,” he said, coming around. “C’mon, Tony. Tell Pepper ‘bye’,” he said, catching Tony’s hand to haul him up, stepping back to brace himself for when Tony stumbled into him.

“Hey Pepper! Lookit!” Tony slurred slightly, grinning as he threw his arms around Bruce’s shoulders. “I got my own superhero doctor to play with, be jealous!” he said, winking as he leaned in to kiss Bruce, whining when Bruce turned his head. “Nooo, my genius wont kiss me. Why won’t you kiss me? You’re sexy and I like it when you kiss me-“

Pepper snorted. “Have fun you two,” she said, shaking her head as she headed back into the elevator.

Tony smirked. “We’re alone,” he said and Bruce rolled his eyes, putting an arm around Tony’s waist and ignoring his goofy eyebrow wiggles as he half-dragged him towards their room. 

“C’mon, Tony. Get a shower and I’ll get you some water then you can go to bed, okay?” he said, maneuvering him through the door of the bedroom. “You’re going to feel it tomorrow-“

“Mmmmm, that a promise, Doctor Banner?” Tony said in a low voice, turning in Bruce’s arms to face him. “I like it when I feel it in the morning-“

Bruce sighed. “A different kind of feeling it, Tony,” he said, completely over Tony’s drunken flirting. “Now get in the show-MPH!” He screwed his eyes shut when Tony kissed him sloppily, trying to swallow his face, apparently. Bruce turned his head. “No, Tony. Not tonight.”

Tony giggled. “C’mon, I haven’t seen you all day, gimme a little sugar,” he whispered huskily, leaning in to kiss Bruce’s throat sloppily, sliding his hands under Bruce’s untucked shirt, stroking along his sides and back.

Bruce turned his head, gritting his teeth. “Tony, stop it, Tony-“ He yelped some when Tony grabbed his crotch. “TONY!” He snatched his hand away and shoved him off. “I said no, no go get a shower, you are fucking drunk-“

“Bruceyyyy,” Tony whined, grabbing his hips to pull him in again until they were flush from thighs to chest. “You’re so cute tonight,” he slurred, pulling him into another kiss, hand curled around Bruce’s neck and waist to hold him. “Mmmm you feel good-“

“Tony. I’m not saying it again, _not tonight_ ,” Bruce said firmly, trying to push him gently, only gasping when Tony pulled him back. “Tony!” he snapped and Tony laughed.

“Bruce, the room is spinning enough, stop-“

“No, you need to go get a shower-“ Tony pulled Bruce into a kiss again and Bruce _snapped_. “STOP!” he shouted as he shoved Tony hard, sending him tripping and stumbling backwards, unable to catch his footing before he fell hard, head thumping loudly when it contacted the floor. Bruce gasped, hands flying to his mouth. “Tony, I’m sorry!” he cried, rushing over, only to go even more pale when he didn’t respond. “Tony?!” Bruce fell to his knees quickly, only to let out a strangled cry when he reached for Tony and felt a warm, wet stickiness when he slid his hand under Tony’s head. He pulled his hand back, horrified to see blood on his fingertips. “JARVIS!” he shouted, gently feeling around Tony’s head without moving him. 

“Yes, Doctor Banner?”

Bruce swallowed hard. “Call Pepper up and contact SHIELD medical, Tony would kill me if I let him be taken to a regular hospital,” he said. “Oh God, Tony, I’m so sorry,” he breathed. “Lights up as bright as we can, too,” he added to JARVIS, grateful when the lights came up. He tried his best not to jostle Tony’s head in case he’d hurt his neck, but he needed to do what he could. He reached out and grabbed a shirt Tony had tossed on the floor sometime during the day and folded it, carefully lifting Tony’s head just enough to slide it under, hoping it would help stem the blood flow. “Tony? Can you hear me?” he said gently, stroking his cheek in hopes Tony would wake up quickly. “Tony, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss his slack lips gently. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeated, catching Tony’s hand to hold tightly in his, pulling it to his chest so that he could hold on and feel of Tony’s pulse to be sure it stayed strong.

“Sir, Ms. Potts is getting out of the elevator now. Agent Coulson will be arriving with a medical team on the helicopter pad shortly to take Mr. Stark to a secure SHIELD facility to be monitored-“

“TONY!” Pepper’s shout of shock interrupted JARVIS as she rushed in, still wearing the clothes she had been earlier. “Oh God, what happened?” she asked, coming to kneel down beside them.

Bruce swallowed hard. “It was an accident. He was being uncooperative and I just- I just shoved him but he was too drunk and just fell over without even trying to catch himself. Cracked his head right on the floor,” he said, kissing Tony’s hand. “I’m sorry, Tony,” he whispered again and Pepper reached out, touching his shoulder.

“Hey, it was just an accident, these things happen, okay?” She rubbed his shoulder. “Trust me, isn’t the first time Tony’s got knocked out, won’t be the last. He ever tell you about the time his three favorite robots back in Malibu all rushed to help him at once and two of them smooshed him between their arms and he had a concussion?” she asked and Bruce chuckled.

“I can see that happening.” He groaned and closed his eyes. “God, Tony, I’m so sorry,” he mumbled again, swallowing hard against the lump forming in his throat as they waited impatiently, seconds ticking by slower than Bruce had ever felt them move.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Pepper had assured him of it, but Bruce felt massively relieved when the doctor at SHIELD’s medical facility on the Helicarrier let them know Tony would be fine after a couple stitches and a few hours to rest up. Pepper agreed to go- for once- take up her old position to rearrange Tony’s schedule. Bruce said he would go tell Agent Coulson the news, but instead he made it to the empty corridor leading towards Coulson’s office and stopped, leaning against the wall to take a series of deep breaths. 

Bruce put a hand over his mouth as he remembered the look of shock on Tony’s face when Bruce shoved him and the horrific crack of Tony’s head against the floor. Bruce slid down the wall, giving in to the overwhelming urge to cry. Bruce hadn’t cried in years. No matter how bad things got, he didn’t _cry_. But as he sat against the wall, knees up to his chest, Bruce couldn’t hold in all of the tears and choked sobs he’d been holding in for ages.

He couldn’t believe he had hurt Tony. All his anger at Tony for drinking all the time and reminding him of his abusive father was pointless when _he_ was the one who was hurting people. For all his drinking, Tony getting a little handsy was nothing new and nothing Bruce couldn’t have handled without _hurting_ him. He had put his hands on Tony’s chest and shoved him as hard as he could. Bruce couldn’t believe that he had purposefully hurt the one person in the world that loved him. There was no excuse this time. It wasn’t a situation where the Hulk had accidentally hurt a member of the team in a battle because he didn’t know his strength, this time Bruce had been Bruce and he had put his hands on Tony with violence in his mind and ended up injuring him bad enough he had to stay overnight in a hospital bed.

Tony’s drinking wasn’t the thing reminiscent of his father, Bruce’s own violence towards someone he loved was so much more terrible of a reminder.

Bruce’s shoulder-wracking sobs had ended but the tears were still falling when the tap of shoes coming his way startled him. He looked up and saw Agent Coulson slowing to a stop. “Do I need to warn about an incident, Doctor Banner?” Phil asked, always professional on SHIELD ground.

Bruce sniffled and wiped at his face. “No, no nothing like that,” he said, letting his head fall back against the wall. “So far from that, actually. He hasn’t even stirred in there,” he reassured.

Agent Coulson nodded. “So, I assume this is about Stark? I thought he was fine?”

Bruce whimpered, putting a hand over his mouth before swallowing to continue. “He is, he’s fine.” He nodded and let out a wet cough. “He’s fine, but he’s got a minor concussion and had to have stitches. I-I’m the one that hurt him,” he whispered. “I shoved him and he fell and hit his head,” he confessed, running a hand through his hair.

Agent Coulson’s expression softened some. “Hey trust me, Stark’s took a lot harder hits and will take harder ones in the future. He’s fine, trust me.”

The air vent above them shifted and Clint dropped out, straightening up with a pointed eye roll. “That isn’t the problem, dummy,” he said then knelt, offering Bruce his hand. “Look man, you didn’t mean to hurt him. I don’t know what he did to be pushed but I’m sure he deserved much more.” He pulled him up, despite Bruce’s unsuspecting response and righted him. “You are not your dad,” he said and Bruce chuckled weakly.

“Figured you’d remembered that one,” he said, then shook his head. “Tony was just being Tony and I pushed him hard enough to knock him out, how is that okay?”

Clint shrugged. “It isn’t okay, we both know that, but shit happens. You didn’t mean to hurt him, you misjudged how drunk he was, it isn’t okay but it happened and it was accident. Just be glad it’s Stark. He’s used to being hit in the head,” he said, cracking a smile. “Now come on, I was crawling around and saw him awake and being a dick, go help the medics do their job.”

Bruce sighed and nodded, composing himself. “Yeah, okay, gotta stop being a little girl,” he said, smiling shakily at the other two.

Phil gave a slightly devious smile. “Don’t worry, Barton’s been trying for years and he’s still a little girl,” he said, nodding to Clint before he turned to walk back down the office.

Bruce watched in amusement when Clint just turned and blew a raspberry at him, smirking when he turned back to Bruce. “What?” Clint asked, grinning impishly. “I still like to fuck with SHIELD personnel, personal life doesn’t change that,” he said and Bruce laughed.

“You’re like a giant child. I can see why you and Tony get along so well,” Bruce said and Clint groaned.

“Never compare me to Stark, I beg you,” he groused dramatically, leaning on Bruce’s shoulder with an overdramatic look on his face.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Tony had been asleep again when Bruce got to the room where he was resting, so Bruce simply sat and watched him for a while. When he began to flag himself, Bruce couldn’t help but want to be closer to Tony. He pulled his chair right up to the edge of the bed and got comfortable, laying his head on the bed beside Tony’s hand, refusing to leave his side until he knew he would be alright.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
 _Bruce watched in horror from his spot curled up on the floor, trying his best to disappear in spite of the impossibility, as his father spun around and drunkenly grabbed his mother’s arms, shaking her and screaming before throwing her away. Bruce watched her fall and hit the corner of the table, a loud, ominous crack filling the room. He screamed and rushed over, for once not caring about disappearing as she fell to the floor, completely still-_

“Bruce, Bruce? Wake up!”

Bruce snapped awake with a cry, jumping up so fast he stumbled over his chair, falling to the floor in a heap. “No, no, God-“

“Hey! Hey, Banner!” Bruce looked around, panting weakly with a lingering fear of being in that kitchen again only to remember he’d fallen asleep in a medical room. He looked up and saw Tony was sitting up, leaning over the side of the bed looking at him. “Bruce?” he asked, looking afraid. “Honey, you okay?”

Bruce sighed with relief, letting his forehead fall to his knees weakly before he stood up. “Yeah, yeah I’m alright.” He shook himself, walking back. He righted the chair and sat beside the bed again. “Forget about me, Tony, are _you_ okay?” he asked, reaching out to touch his hand. He reached up to angle Tony’s face to his, looking at his eyes. “Pupils look alright-“

Tony rolled his eyes. “Bruce, don’t go into doctor mode,” he said, grabbing his hand to pull into his lap. “What was that? You haven’t had nightmares in a while,” he said, worry lacing his voice as he stroked Bruce’s wrist idly. “Was it just the weird place?”

Bruce snorted harshly. “Yeah, maybe,” he said evasively, looking away.

Tony reached up and touched his face. “Hey, talk to me, okay?” He laid back, groaning. “Just, you know, keep it simple. I’m nursing a combination head injury and hangover.” Bruce flinched slightly and Tony paused. “Bruce?”

Bruce looked up with so much pain in his eyes, clearly begging for forgiveness as he turned his hand over in Tony’s and held it tightly. “I _hurt_ you,” he said and Tony waved a hand.

“Hey, it’s nothing, okay? I’ve hurt myself way worse when I was that hammered. I don’t really even remember you getting home,” he said and Bruce looked away, swallowing hard. “Bruce,” Tony said, squeezing his hand. “It’s okay-“

“It’s NOT okay!” Bruce cried suddenly. “For fucks sake!” He ran his free hand through his hair, shaking his head. “For all my anger at myself lately, for all the beating myself up over the fact I ended up falling in love with an alcoholic just like my dad-“ Tony’s face went slack and his skin paled. “For _all_ the blaming myself for being so _stupid_ for putting up with having to relive memories of my dad stumbling around drunk when my boyfriend ends up hammered most nights of the week after basically non-stop drinking all day long, _I_ ended up being the one who got violent.” Bruce shook his head, shoulders sagging as he let everything go. “I am no better than he was,” he muttered weakly. “Hell, I’m worse, I was sober and just slightly irritated when I shoved my boyfriend so hard he didn’t get back up, at least he could use the piss-poor excuse of a drunken rage for when he pushed my mom down and she hit her head. The only positive fucking thing about it is that there wasn’t a table corner anywhere nearby so I dodged THAT bullet-“

“Bruce, you are _not_ your father,” Tony said vehemently. Bruce looked up and was somewhat startled by the fire in Tony’s eyes. “Bruce…” He trailed off and shook his head. “Jesus, no. Okay just no.” He shifted to the edge of the bed and leaned over to hold Bruce’s face in his hands so he could look him in the eyes without Bruce looking away. “You are not violent. You’re the most peaceful person alive. You didn’t mean to push me down. You didn’t hurt me on purpose. You wouldn’t do that.” He swallowed, grimacing. “Bruce… I didn’t know you were _blaming_ yourself for my issues.” He looked at him and sighed. “Why would you blame yourself for loving me, not me for being too stupid to realize I was hurting you by drinking so much-“

Bruce sighed. “Because I knew what you were like when we got involved, Tony. There was no reason for you to change who you are just because of me-“

Tony scoffed. “Bruce, there is every reason for me to change my ways because of you.” He cringed. “Look, I know I drink a lot. I do. And I know I shouldn’t. And maybe I am addicted, maybe I don’t need to self-medicate anymore. But that’s not an excuse. I should’ve noticed that I was hurting you-“

Bruce shook his head. “Tony, you don’t have to be addicted to have the lifestyle of drinking you do. And I made the choice to be with you, it was my place to deal with it or get out, you didn’t have any obligation to notice shit-“

“Bull,” Tony argued. “Bruce, I love you.” He laughed weakly. “I don’t think you fully grasp how serious that is for me. I would do anything for you, okay? I can fucking stop drinking if it hurts you because the idea of you not being there…” He shook his head. “Unacceptable. I would rather change everything I am than lose you.”

Bruce shook his head, smiling sadly. “I don’t want you to change anything, Tony. You’re my Tony like you are.” He sighed. “And I don’t want you to stop drinking, Tony. You like to drink, I wouldn’t want you to feel obligated to stop altogether. I just wish you wouldn’t drink all day long.” He looked up at him. “You’re killing yourself with how much you drink. I’m not saying you should stop, by all means enjoy a few drinks when you want, Tony. But things like last night…” He shook his head. “It has to stop. It has to. It shouldn’t matter that it hurts me nearly as much as the fact you’re killing yourself.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Look, I’ll cut you a deal.” He slid his hand into Bruce’s hair, smiling slightly when Bruce leaned into the touch. “I’ll ease off on the drinking- you can help me keep myself straight- but you’ve _got_ to let go of the self-loathing, okay?” He scratched at the nape of his neck as he leaned in to bump their foreheads together lightly. “You, Bruce Banner, are a beautiful, caring, giving, brilliant man. You’re a genius, you’re a ridiculously _good_ person, and you’ve come a long way when faced with some seriously shitty things in life. You’ve done so much when you should have every reason to have no faith at all in humanity. You’ve come from the bottom many times and you fight your way back up and you have absolutely no reason to ever feel so worthless, okay?” He smiled sadly. “If nothing else, no matter what happens, you have me. I may not be much in the grand scheme of ‘the world’ but you have me always.”

Bruce blushed slightly but smiled. “Well, you are a genius, billionaire, and superhero. It’s like knowing Batman loves me, so I’d say you’re more than ‘not much’, at least.” He leaned in and kissed Tony gently, still careful of his head. “It really does help to know you mean those things, Tony,” he admitted in a low voice. “I can almost believe I really am all those things when you say them.”

Tony smirked. “Baby, I’m a genius, I’m never wrong. Believe it.”

Bruce laughed, then blushed slightly, rolling his eyes. “Alright, alright, you crazy person-“

“You’re the crazy one,” Tony teased. “You don’t believe that you’re the sexiest, most brilliant person in the world. Clearly you have issues.”

Bruce smiled lovingly, watching Tony closely. “Hey Tony?” Tony nodded patiently and Bruce felt something relax in his chest. “I love you.”

Tony returned his smile and leaned over to kiss him tenderly once more. “Ditto.”


End file.
